


Meeting Mr. Anderson

by KlainebowsAndDramioneflies



Series: Sonnet Verse [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Grad Student Blaine, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, Undergrad Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-25 18:57:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3821233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlainebowsAndDramioneflies/pseuds/KlainebowsAndDramioneflies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the Sonnet Verse, this is the story of the first day of class, when Kurt first laid eyes on Professor Anderson and his oh so fine /ass/ets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When he started college last year, Kurt Hummel really hadn't thought he'd regret his choice to skip most of the AP options at McKinley (not that many were really offered at that hellish school). He hadn't thought he'd hate himself for opting out of those pesky tests that were offered to skip the stupid introductory classes. They were challenging and time consuming and you had to get special permission from the Dean or something like that to take them and nobody had time for that, right?

 

Well, now that he was starting his third semester, Kurt could honestly say that he regretted those decisions. He _hated_ intro classes. Especially the ones that had nothing to do with his major or his interests. Who in the hell cared about solving an equation for 'x'? He'd taken harder math classes at his shitty high school and passed. How on earth did he have to take this crap in college?

 

Then there was English. Kurt was interested in _fashion_. He was minoring in vocals. There wasn't a single fibre of his being which wanted to _write_. His inner turmoil and emotions were expressed through his designs and the perfect song choice, not some poem or story or essay or whatever the hell this class called for. 101 had been bad enough last year. He could only imagine what 102 held for him.

 

Even worse than the subject matter were the _people_ in those classes. It seemed only true morons took introductory classes. Morons and people like him who were unfortunate enough to go to shitty high schools and foolish enough to avoid the tests to skip them. He just hoped there were more people similar to him and less who reminded him of a terrifying cross between the neanderthal jocks and stoner Brett from McKinley this time around. If he had to read one more persuasive piece about 4/20 he was pretty sure he would need to start smoking himself just so he didn't kill someone.

 

Dragging his feet into his first day of this newest level of hell, Kurt found himself wondering who B. Anderson would turn out to be. It was so strange to have professors presented with their first initial and last name instead of their title. It almost gave more personality. Unfortunately, it also left gender up to question, so every class was a mystery until it began. Well, unless he went on 'Rate My Professor' first, but he didn't value the opinions of his classmates that much, so he generally didn't.

 

Before all the decent seats could be taken, Kurt perched himself in the second row from the front, near the windows but not quite on the outskirts of the room. He liked being out from the middle of the room, but also not quite on the outer edges. Somehow it made him feel less claustrophobic while also less noticeable. Kurt was full of idiosyncrasies…

 

Soon, the room was nearly full and there were only a few minutes before the class was set to begin. A boy strode in and set a satchel on the desk chair before tucking his hands in his pockets and leaning forward, then back on his feet. He had a cute, if a little old-fashioned, bow tie about his neck and a light weight blue cardigan over a pale yellow shirt. His pants were grey and a bit snug and Kurt had to appreciate his style. Then he put two and two together and figured out just as the man introduced himself. That was his _teacher_.

 

"Hello, class," the man spoke, voice a bit deeper than Kurt had expected. The guy was short and had a pretty young face. He wouldn't have thought he was much older than the students, if older at all, but Kurt supposed he still sounded like a twelve year old girl, so he couldn't really judge. "I'm your professor, Blaine Anderson. You can call me Mr. Anderson or Professor Anderson. Don't call me 'doctor' though. Haven't earned that one yet." He smiled and winked, fucking _winked_ , and Kurt had a sudden thought that perhaps this class wouldn't be so horrible after all.

 

The dreamy Mr. Anderson kept talking, though Kurt was only partially paying attention. "This class is mostly focused on composition, so we're going to focus on a bunch of different forms of writing and you'll be learning how to hopefully master them! Now, you might have guessed, but I'm a grad student here, so I'm on campus _a lot_. I also help out at the writing center here in the department, so I can help you on your papers in office hours and there and I am usually around if you need to talk outside of those times…" He trailed off with more friendly offers of assistance with things that weren't even his class, and Kurt was already absently doodling.

 

Bow ties littered his notebook margins while he sighed. Then he coughed to hide the gasp that he couldn't hold back when Mr. Anderson turned around and started writing something on the board. As he wrote, his hips wiggled and his ass… his _ass_. It was… jiggling slightly. And those pants were so perfectly tailored over the perfect globes… Images were definitely streaming through Kurt's mind and they were definitely far from innocent. Oh, _fuck_ , he hoped there was plenty of time left in this class because he so could not stand up without embarrassing himself right now.

 

"So that's my email and my cell number. I know it's probably bad practice to give out personal numbers but… well, I like to help people. So like… I know some of you are Freshman and are probably still getting used to college and might be making some questionable decisions. And some of you are older and still making those decisions. So, um, if you need anything… you know, even if you just need a ride or something so you don't get in a wreck? You can call me."

 

It was like some fucking Disney prince was teaching his class. Kurt had to stop himself from drooling long enough to copy down the phone number and email address. He wasn't sure if he'd work up the nerve to use either one for anything other than assignment questions, but it would be stupid not to at least write them down…

 

Even though Kurt had kind of zoned out for a lot of his professor's explanation of the class and the syllabus, which had been passed out and even had some notes scrawled on it though Kurt didn't remember writing them, he did notice when the mood changed and the man before him perched on the large desk in front of the room. It was very casual and the smile on the professor's face was hard to resist, especially as he made a point of making eye contact with each person in his classroom. He was just adorable.

 

"So, now that the official stuff has been gone over… let's use the rest of the class time to get to know each other, yeah?" That smile kept lighting up the room, and Kurt thought he'd never end up using those five allotted absences for the class, even if he had originally planned to skip as much of the stupid intro classes as he could get away with and still get A's.

 

Mr. Anderson's voice filled the room again and Kurt perked up to listen to the start of this 'getting to know each other' thing. "So, as I said, I'm Blaine Anderson. I'm working on my Master's degree in English and I really like poetry- it's my concentration. Studying it, writing it, using it to write songs… I minored in music performance and composition in my undergrad and I actually play piano and sing at a local coffee shop once a month. Oh, and I'm twenty-three, not like fifteen."

 

After laughing along with his new students, the man looked around at them happily. "Alright, now you all take turns. Major, hobby, age? That sound good? Alright, start at this end and go up and down the rows, then." The first person answered with some psychology major, stating she was a freshman who really enjoyed cats. Kurt shook his head but kept himself from being too obviously disturbed as the class continued introducing themselves.

 

There were a couple other business majors, though they seemed much less fashionably-inclined, and there were a lot of liberal arts kids. A few science and math people sat together, and two people were actually older than the professor, returning to school once their kids had started middle school and high school.

 

Finally, it was Kurt's turn, and he cleared his throat. "I'm Kurt Hummel, sophomore and nineteen. Hobby? Um, well, I've got an internship at Vogue.com actually. I'm kind of a fashion designer. Or at least I hope to be. That's why I'm majoring in business. Eventually I plan to have my own line and potentially a boutique in the city along with an online store." A couple people snorted at his words, which made Kurt growl and sneer in disgust at the lack of drive or fashion around him. At least, he sneered until he saw Mr. Anderson's look of awe.

 

"Well, color me impressed, Kurt. Vogue is a very big name to be associated with, and only in your second year of college. That's… wow." He cleared his throat and looked at the other students. A few more had to introduce themselves still, but it seemed their professor had something to say first. "Sorry to interrupt our exercise, but I did want to let you all know that if you do have any jobs or other commitments that make a deadline difficult or lead to a missed class or anything, please talk to me ahead of time if you can. I do understand the difficulties of working and going to school at the same time." He flashed them all a winning smile, then motioned for the next person to introduce himself. Kurt simply kept staring at that amazing grin.

* * *

 

He really needed to stop this. Kurt knew it wasn't healthy, and it wasn't exactly politically correct in any sense, but… those damn _bow ties_. And that _ass_. 

 

After the first day, Kurt had palmed at himself with his pants still on, willing himself to stop being ridiculous. He'd been uncomfortable for a while, but it had subsided and he thought he might have escaped the awkward reaction to his professor. Then he had class again two days later and there was another bow tie and snug pants outlining that luscious, bouncing bum… He'd given in once back at his dorm room alone, locking the door and sliding his hand into his pants, bringing himself to a messy climax while thinking about the way his teacher had removed his jacket to show off fucking _suspenders_. He was like some old-school dapper prince, and Kurt couldn't help his reactions.

 

It didn't hurt that on the third day of class, Blaine- no, _Mr. Anderson_ , had laughingly told the class about how he was late for their lesson because a female graduate student had actually asked him out and he'd had to have the awkward conversation about how he thought women were absolutely lovely, but he had absolutely no romantic interest in them. Then, still laughing, he'd said, "Of course, she didn't understand, so I had to just look at her and bluntly say 'I'm _gay_ ' and deal with the awkward blushing and apologizing. So, to make up for my tardiness, I brought you all donuts!"

 

So, now Kurt knew for sure that his professor was gay, gorgeous, and flirted with everyone and everything, including the donuts, which he called adorable since they were shaped like hearts for some reason. He reasoned that his attraction really couldn't be helped, and it was only natural to think of the man when he inevitably had… urges.

 

It was the third week of classes that Kurt finally broke, though. Mr. Anderson had worn a bow tie with _little bow ties_ printed on it, and he'd had a crisp white shirt under a deep red sweater, black pants cuffed to expose his sock-less ankles and boat shoes. He'd looked absolutely adorable and sexy and so damn gorgeous. Kurt couldn't take his eyes off him. Then, the man did something that just pushed Kurt over the edge.

 

He finished writing on the board, wiped his hands together, then wiped them _on his ass_ leaving hand prints on the sexy globes. He'd been hard for nearly the whole class, his knee twitching as he watched Mr. Anderson obliviously lecturing away. Kurt even had to bite his bottom lip to keep from making completely inappropriate sounds in reaction to every move the professor made.

 

As soon as class was over, Kurt hurried to his dorm and gathered his shower caddy, turning the water on hot and slipping into the steamy stall, hand dropping to his rigid cock and head tilting back with a moan, mind wandering back to that classroom. His hand moved torturously slowly over his shaft as he pictured Mr. Anderson- _Blaine_. The man was just so perfect, so much what Kurt dreamed about. His personality and his charm, his looks and style, his hobbies… He was just _perfect_. Kurt squeezed just under the head of his cock and groaned, bucking his hips.

 

Those bow ties… Kurt had never thought about bow ties in a sexual way, but now… He imagined what all he could do with a bow tie. Or a few bow ties. He knew now that the professor had a fair few of them. Mmm, he let his other hand slide down to cup and roll over his balls, his grip loose as he stroked himself, still not looking for much more than a teasing start. A bow tie would be perfect for restraining wrists. Easy to tie to anything available, easy to hide and take places with him…

 

He imagined tying one around Blaine's head, gagging the man with the soft fabric so he couldn't be too loud. If they were in the classroom it wouldn't do to alert anyone to what was going on, after all. His thumb ran through the precome gathered on his slit before the hot water of the shower could wash it away, and Kurt groaned.

 

Maybe he could wrap one of those ties about his dick some time, tying it in a bow like on a present. He was sure Blaine would enjoy revealing that gift. His hand sped up as he bucked his hips again, panting softly as he thought about Blaine's hands on his body. Blaine jerking him off. Blaine fondling his balls and squeezing just that little bit too much that undid him every damn time.

 

Just like that, Kurt was leaning against the shower wall, still shooting his release over his own hand as the shower cleared it away as if nothing had even happened. His legs shook as he finally washed his hair and body, finishing up and wrapping a towel about his hips so he could get back to his room and put on some lounge clothes.

 

As he tugged a shirt over his head, Kurt noticed his phone and a thought crossed his mind. Before he could stop himself, he'd thumbed through his contacts to 'Blaine Anderson' which he'd put in his phone after that first day when the professor told the class to contact him for anything. His fingers danced across the screen before hitting the send button on a text message.

 

_Hey Professor Anderson, this is Kurt Hummel from your 102 class? I was wondering, since I'm so interested in fashion and all… would you be willing to show off that bow tie collection of yours some time? ;)_

 

A few hours later found Kurt at Mr. Anderson's apartment for dinner and to give his opinion of the bow ties. Despite a valiant attempt on Blaine's behalf at keeping their relationship at the 'friendly' level of student and teacher, the attraction couldn't be denied. To say Kurt had some new masturbation material would be an understatement, especially when the next class had Blaine wearing one of his thickest-collared shirts and a tightly tied bow tie, but still showing off the edges of a very impressive hickey on his neck.

 


	2. Call Me Kurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since it was asked for, here's a little insight into Blaine's mind on the matter of Kurt. It's really short and simple, but it connects the dots, I think. :)

Blaine loved teaching. He’d never really thought about teaching when he’d been younger, or when he’d started his undergraduate studies for that matter, but once he hit grad school and the opportunity presented itself, Blaine dove right in. He found that he loved influencing those people who were pretty much still his peers, even if they were a few years younger than him. He loved the idea that he might inspire someone, or open their eyes to skills and interests they never knew they had. After all, his own TA’s had done much the same for him when he’d first started on his path to English literature studies.

He prided himself on making an impression with each class on the first day, and he was pretty sure such had happened in the case of the 102 class that seemed to constantly take up space on his mind lately. He was sure he’d made a lasting impression with at least one of the students, and… well, maybe he shouldn’t grin so much about that fact.

The truth was, Blaine didn’t think there was anything wrong with having romantic interests in one of his students. It wasn’t like he was some high school teacher with underage kids looking to him for guidance. He was only a few years senior to the these students, and they were all of legal age and just the same as him. If they had met anywhere besides his classroom, no one would think twice about Blaine asking out one “Call me Kurt” Hummel.

That was how he’d introduced himself the first time he’d gotten to class early and met Blaine in the room where they talked over coffee until more students showed up. Blaine had started with a “Mr…” and had been promptly interrupted. _“Call me Kurt,”_ the boy, no man, had said with a flirty wink much like that wink Blaine had tossed him on the very first day. That day, Blaine had fought with himself internally about whether or not he’d overstepped some invisible line with the wink. It seemed to have been a good thing, though, looking back.

Of course, Blaine had made a deal with himself as soon as he realized just how often his gaze kept wandering back to his fashion-focused student. He’d not make the first move. If something was to happen, Kurt would have to initiate it. Blaine wasn’t going to hold himself back from a potential relationship with the adorable and sassy student, but he also wasn’t going to be some predator.

Lucky for Blaine, he didn’t have to wait long.

Three weeks into the course, Blaine was sitting at his apartment, papers strewn across his coffee table while he tried to fight off the start of a song forming in his head because he _really needed to grade these papers_ and his blank sheet music kept distracting him. Instead of the melody in his head serving as the ultimate distraction, however, his phone soon took the place of honor.

Blaine’s text tone called out from under a few essays and he tugged it out of the paper pile, only to stare at the screen for a bit before finally sliding his thumb over the screen to unlock it. Kurt Hummel had just sent him a flirty message about his bow ties. And a winky face! A _winky face_! His heart was beating so fast Blaine thought he might pass out, and his fingers shook as he typed a response.

_You are the first to show such appreciation for my dapper fashion choices, Mr. Hummel. If you aren’t busy, perhaps you’d care to join me for dinner this evening? I’ve been dying to test out a new recipe for eggplant parmesan…_

  
The response he got made Blaine chuckle to himself, muttering under his breath as he typed back with his address. “Call me Kurt, indeed,” he said, shaking his head. This guy was going to be the death of him, but it would be so very worth it.


End file.
